


Merger

by theprydonian_archivist



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Action/Adventure, Episode: s03e13 Last of the Time Lords, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-19
Updated: 2008-12-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 01:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7199333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprydonian_archivist/pseuds/theprydonian_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could fix it. He could fix it all. If only the Doctor gave him what he needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merger

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the LJ community slashtheimage prompt seen here:  
> 
> 
> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Prydonian](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Prydonian). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [The Prydonian collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/theprydonian/profile).

“What’s the matter with him?” Gwen whispered as she linked her arm through Jack’s. He didn’t answer her, but he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. 

“Do you think he’s in pain?,” Gwen asked again. She felt Jack’s grip around her tighten, only momentarily, before he turned away from the glass. 

“I don’t think he can feel anything right now, Gwen.” He looked on, almost helplessly. 

Gwen wondered why he wasn’t in there. She wondered why he deliberately placed a glass cell between them, and why he refused to go inside. She didn’t have the heart to ask. Instead, she was there for the both of them. When Jack left, she stayed. She didn’t think the man slumped in that cell would have liked to have been alone, even if he wasn’t conscious of very much. If he was, he certainly would have said something about his accommodations. The corridor was empty, save for her and Jack when they visited, but it was still a cell. It was still cold and damp, still hard and uncomfortable, still only outfitted with a small narrow seat. The seat didn’t matter, though, it seemed. He stayed in the exact position Jack left him in: propped up in the corner, gazing into empty space. There was only one noticeable movement.

Gwen got comfortable on the floor, unwilling to go inside with him just yet. “What’s happened to you, Doctor?” 

The only answer he gave was four rhythmic taps on the floor beside him, the ring on his hand making a dull clunk with every tap.

*** 

“You haven’t touched your tea. It’s gone cold.” The Master pouted, stirring his own cup with a small spoon. “You’re not going to speak to me, are you?”

He sighed in the silence, propping his chin in his hands and staring at the Doctor. “Fine. I’ll just entertain myself.” 

Fingers skirted over the top of the Doctor’s hand as the Master reached for a worn, open book that was lying on the table. He dragged it across the Doctor’s hands, watching for any sort of reaction. The Doctor appeared to have mastered the art of stoicism. He stared straight ahead, through the Master, and remained tight-lipped. Even his eyes appeared emotionless. The Master could have slammed the book against the Doctor’s jaw, but even that wouldn’t have affected him. It was tempting, but not rewarding. Instead, he opened the dusty old tome and began a little light reading.

He flipped through a few pages, skimming over only a few sentences. “Aren’t you interested in what I’m reading?”

The Doctor wasn’t. 

“You probably aren’t. Nothing you haven’t already done, right?” He flipped a few more pages, then sighed. “This is dreadfully boring. It’s like watching paint dry, only duller. Don’t you have the fun volumes lying about? The naughty ones, perhaps? The _interesting_ ones. There has to be some lovely anecdotes about Miss Jones here.” 

He made sure to push out his chair in the loudest, most screeching manner possible, but the Doctor didn’t even wince. The Master slunk over to the nearest bookcase. “There must be some interesting books here, hm? What have you done, dear Doctor, that I should be interested to know?”

He picked out a blue-bound book at random. “Gridlock.” He rolled his eyes. “A whole book on gridlock. Traffic excites you, then? Boring!” He tossed it over his shoulder without a care, pulling out another. “Sontaran Stratagem: the Poison Sky. Well isn’t that a fancy title. Still boring.” Over his shoulder it went. 

“You’d think, out of a whole library of books, there would be _one_ . . . Oh my. _Rose_. You devil!” Grinning like the cat with the canary in his grasp, he tiptoed over to the dusty table and slammed the book down in front of the Doctor. The china cups filled with tea rattled. The Doctor, still, did not flinch. 

“Doesn’t this look interesting?” It didn’t really. Once you’ve known about one failed romance, you knew them all. He was only looking for a reaction, any reaction at all. Even if the Doctor blinked, the Master would’ve been happy. He got nothing. 

“Doctor,” He spoke in a low voice, close to the Doctor’s ear. “Humour me, hm? Give me a good memory to root through while I’m stuck here. Give me something interesting. Something to keep me entertained. I know it’s here somewhere. You know what I want. Just point me in the right direction, Doctor. A call number, even. A brief description. I bet it’s only a page long, followed by two hundred pages of ‘woe is me.’ The Last Great Time War. Where is it?”

The Doctor kept his eyes straight ahead.

Swallowing any frustration, the Master picked up his china cup and walked away to inspect some artwork. “I can wait as long as you can, Doctor.”

***

“Any change?”

“None.” Gwen sighed, rubbing her eyes. “He just keeps tapping. Jack, what is that? It’s driving me mad.”

“You’d be surprised.” Jack sat down next her, keeping his face expressionless. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Is it bad?”

Jack breathed in deeply, holding his breath for a long, silent moment. Gwen half-expected Jack to release it in a vent of anger and frustration — a scream, a yell, something. Jack didn’t. He released it calmly, turning his head to gaze sidelong at the Doctor. “It’s nothing he hasn’t got out of before.”

She looked at the Doctor’s face, the same stoic mask as the last time she looked. He seemed so trapped and so alone. “Is he strong enough to fight it?”

“He’s strong enough for anything,” was Jack’s quick reply. “What I’m worried about is whether he wants to or not.”

***

“Look what I found!” The Master dragged his chair over to the Doctor, hugging his prized find close to his chest. “I had to pull out all the stupid junk you’ve accumulated these past nine hundred years to find it tucked away behind everything. I made a complete mess of the floors, but I don’t think you’ll mind. You always kept your head all cluttered anyhow. So you’ll need to do a bit of housekeeping when I leave.” He paused to laugh. “ _If_ I leave. So!”

He moved them closer together, and placed the large book reverently in front of them. “You sentimental old fool. Granted,” He opened to a random page, “You seem to have converted everything to an Earth school’s physics textbook — anything to forget the stifling hypocrisy of home, hm?”

The Doctor didn’t respond. 

“Oh, look! You’ve even got your little hand-scribbles in the margins!” He pushed the book closer to the Doctor. Momentarily, his eyes flickered downwards. 

“What’s the matter?” The Master whispered. “Can’t recall it? Has it been so long since you’ve let yourself remember this? Simple calculations, Doctor. You were never a model student, but you . . . Ah. It isn’t the material, is it?” He dragged a finger down the right margin. “It’s these.” 

“I suppose,” he continued after a pause, “That’s why this was shoved into a corner, neglected and . . . unloved.”

Again, the Doctor’s eyes turned down to the page. 

“Go on. Say something.” 

The Doctor’s hand came up to caress the left margin. 

“You hated studying. I had to make it worth your while. An hour of learning for an hour of pleasure. Wasn’t that our deal?”

The Doctor looked at him. The Master smiled. He’d got him.

***

“You know what it is. You know what that infernal tapping is. You know what’s wrong.”

Jack opened his mouth to answer, but Gwen stopped him. “That wasn’t a question, Jack. I was stating the facts. Like this one: You love him. Why won’t you help him?” When Jack didn’t answer, she let him know that she was expecting one. “Why won’t you go in there with him? Try and get him out of it?” 

“It’s . . . delicate.”

“Delicate?”

“I could screw everything up.” 

“Why won’t you tell us what it is? Why won’t you let us help you?” 

“If I thought we could help, Gwen. . . The only one who can help him is himself. It’s a mental battle. I’ve seen these before. Any interference . . . it’s a fifty-fifty shot and I’m not risking him. Something tells me that he won’t harm him either.”

“He won’t harm him?”

Jack caught himself too late. He’d revealed too much. “There’s a presence in his mind, a strong psychic force. It’s in the ring. That’s all I’ll say.”

“Is he in danger?”

Jack shook his head, but somehow, she didn’t believe him.

*** 

"There’s a tree growing in your library,” The Master commented as he lied flat on the table. “Though you probably knew that.”

He folded his hands over his chest. “It’s not silver. Why isn’t it silver, you sentimental old fool? Do you really want to keep everything of Gallifrey from me? Or are you keeping it from yourself?”

The Master sat up, swinging his legs off of the table, swiveling to face the Doctor. “If you let me see, Doctor, just one little look, I can bring her back. I can restore Gallifrey. You know this. Let me see it, Doctor. Show me the Time War.”

It was clear the Doctor wasn’t about to show him anything. He watched him with his eyes, but disconnected from him in every other part of his body. 

“And we were doing so well.” The Master sighed, reclining back once more. 

“There’s a hole in the ceiling, you know,” he commented after a while. “But you knew that, too. You also know that the sky is blue. You’ve taken so much of this Earth into yourself, used it mask your childhood home. I suppose I’m guilty of much the same. I may think Earth is a rubbish heap, but I never quite liked home, either. I was just as dissatisfied as you. The difference was, I thought I could change it. I was invested in making that change. For a while, at least. Then I realized that my true interests gravitated towards something I’d never thought of changing. As cliched as it sounds, I only realized I’d needed it until it had gone. I suppose I’m the one being sentimental now, hm? It’s a sign I’ve been rooting about in your mind for far too long.” 

He blindly reached for the discarded textbook that had fallen on the floor some time ago. The Doctor’s eyes followed his movement. 

“Have you forgotten this? Is that why you’re so interested in this? Why do we forget some things, and never let others go?” He moved the book back and forth, and each time the Doctor’s eyes followed. The Master laughed. He smiled. He rolled off of the table still chuckling. 

“Is it this!” He suddenly shouted, slamming his palms and the book flat on the table. “Tell me, Doctor, is it this?” 

On the cover, two names were carved with an old-fashioned quill pen. Utterly changed from their original compositions, twisted into something alien but familiar: Theta & Koschei. The Doctor’s eyes dropped to the carving, remaining fixed. 

“This is the way to get to you, then? An hour of work . . . an hour of pleasure. Very well.” The Master nodded, completely calm. “There must be more here somewhere.”

***

Jack was biting his thumbnail, fully focused on the Doctor when he asked Gwen, “Why don’t you get something to eat?”

His voice jarred her from her own thoughts. She blinked and stretched her legs as she rose from the floor. “I don’t want to leave him alone.” 

“I’ll stay,” Jack offered quickly. 

“Do you promise?”

Jack seemed almost hurt that she had to ask the question. “I won’t leave him, Gwen.” 

Though she did take a few steps, she never walked out the door. “I won’t leave him, either. He means something to you, and he means something to me. If there’s anything I can do for him, I want to be here when that opportunity presents itself.”

“You can’t help him if you don’t know what’s going on.” 

“Then inform me, Jack.”

“I’ve told you what I could,” he said while looking at the Doctor out of the corner of his eye. 

“I think you’re lying.” She did more than think. She knew that.

Jack’s eyes slid back to the imprisoned alien. “I thought he was dead. No. I knew he was dead. I watched him die. Then the Doctor shows up at my door completely crippled with one added accessory I haven’t seen in over a year. I don’t know what to do, Gwen. I don’t even know if it’s dangerous. For all I know . . . it’s personal.”

“It’s not his ring?”

“No.”

“He’s never worn it?”

“No.”

“So he put it on himself?”

“Most likely.”

“Why would he do that?”

For the first time in their conversation, Jack looked at her full-on. “I know. I only wish I understood.”

**

“You love me!”

The Doctor’s head audibly snapped as he whipped around to face the Master. It was the first time since the Master’s arrival that he’d physically moved a part of him other than his eyes. The Master took this small victory inside of himself, but continued on in his initial point. 

“You love me,” he repeated, slightly less shocked as the thought took root. “After all these years.” 

The Doctor slowly turned back, folding his hands in his lap and tucking his chin near his chest. 

“Oh no you don’t,” The Master clambered on top of the table. “Look at me.” 

The Doctor didn’t. 

“After all the work I went through to look behind, even _in_ all these dusty old volumes. Books upon books, Doctor, look at them all. Piled on the floor, scattered on the stairs. That hard work got me right down to my shirt sleeves. And it was all for this.” He shifted his position, sitting upright on the rickety table, producing a delicate, worn leather-bound journal. It looked like the oldest thing in the room, outside of the two Time Lords. The Doctor would not look up. 

“I read it all, you know.” The Master shrugged. “I had the time, after all. And it was such enlightening material.” 

The Doctor sniffed, seemingly uninterested. 

“Theta,” the Master spoke softly. 

The Doctor shook his head. 

“Very well,” The Master pulled up a chair. “You leave me no choice.”

He cleared his throat and opened the book, casting his eyes over the pages to make sure the Doctor was paying attention. Of course, what else was there for him to pay attention to? 

“ ‘It perhaps isn’t easy to say this, but’ Oh this is rich, isn’t it, Doctor?” He glanced over the book again, but the Doctor did not appear agitated. He continued reading, “‘It perhaps isn’t easy to say this, but, throughout the course of our friendship together, I find myself suddenly thinking how much I hate being his friend.’ Oh, touching. I feel that way, too. ‘While I’m his friend, I can’t be anything else but his friend. I’ll have to listen to his stupid theories and criticisms of others. I’ll have to laugh a certain way him. Make sure to look at him in only a certain manner.’ Rassilon, but you do ramble. Even then. That’s hardly a surprise. ‘I hate being restricted to the codes of friendship when, clearly, it appears that I am striving for more.’ Oh, how heartbreaking. You should considering sending this to Hollywood. They’d eat it up. Well. No. They’re actually rather homophobic so they’ll probably change you into a young girl, which really doesn’t deviate too far from the truth, hm? No?”

“Stop it.” 

The Master lowered the stolen journal to his lap and inclined his ear toward the Doctor. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that, dear, I didn’t quite remember what you sounded like when you spoke. It’s been so long.”

“I said stop it.” 

“Now whatever for?”

The Doctor stood, for the first time, and began to walk to the nearest shelving unit. “Did you really have to go through all of this?” The Doctor turned, mournfully gazing at the state of the library. “I must be in quite the state.”

“Catatonic, actually.”

“Hm. Oh, well, thank you for that. Who knows what I might have done.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled around. “I won’t give you what you want.” 

“You will.” 

“And if I don’t.”

The Master crossed his legs. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me when I said ‘You will.’ _You will_.”

The Doctor ran his hand along another empty shelf. His shoulders slumped. “Why have you come back now?”

“I haven’t. Not yet. Not fully.”

“You’re only here because . . .” The Doctor looked down at his hands.

“You put on the ring. How touching. Miss me that much?”

“Yes.” 

The Master wasn’t expecting that answer. Not at all. He sat back in his chair and watched the Doctor carefully. There was silence for a long stretch, as he watched the Doctor slowly inspect the deplorable condition. He circled the perimeter one pained step at a time. 

“Are you sure you want this?” The Doctor’s voice echoed in the vast emptied room. He stopped in front of the Master, holding a small black folio in left hand. The Master’s eyes immediately fixed upon it. 

“Yes.”

“Every last secret of the Time War? The very things even I forgot I did?”

“That just makes it more appealing.” The Master rose, unfurling himself from his seat. “Hand it over.” 

“No.”

“No?”

The Doctor smirked. It wasn’t a very comforting look for the Master. “Come and get it.”

With the very first step the Master took, the Doctor flung it across the room.

***

“Jack?”

“I see it, Gwen.”

They both stood. Gwen pressed closer to the glass. Jack’s hand automatically reached for the lock. Before they took any action, they paused. 

“Why’s he smiling?” Gwen asked. 

Jack shook his head. “I have no idea.”

***

The pages seemed to scream to him for help as they scattered through the air, the delicate binding snapping with the force of the Doctor’s throw. The Master ran after them, picking up empty page after empty page as he went. What remained of the book smashed against the trunk of the tree. A curious event occurred as the Master reached the old relic: its bark turned a worn and cracked silver, smooth to the touch as any tree back on Gallifrey. The Master found himself standing at the foot it, staring up as it grew past the hole in the roof and stretched towards an sky that had turned color, as well.

“What’s going on?”

“I took it,” the Doctor spoke from behind him. 

“You took it?”

“All of it.” He smiled. “Each minute you spent rummaging about in this cluttered head of mine, I took each page, each word, each thought.” He raised a hand to his temple. “All in here. You forget, Master, just where we are. Try as you might, you could never control it. If you’re going to work for that knowledge, you’re going to _work_ for it.”

Though not fully turned the proverbial one hundred eighty degrees, things has certainly shifted. He glanced again at the tree with the blank pages littered around its roots, and observed hundreds of lines and words becoming etched on its surface. The Master smiled. “An hour of work.”

The Doctor’s hand appeared in the corner of his gaze as he traced the beginnings of a spiral.  
“An hour of pleasure. It was a rather effective study method.”

A comment about how the Doctor still managed to fail out of classes almost escaped him, but the Master took a step back. He regarded the Doctor carefully, finding no change in him. He carried himself as he’d always done in this regeneration. “Are you aware of what you’ve done?”

The Doctor turned to him and smiled. “Nope. Not a thing. We’ll both find out when we get there.”

There was anxiety behind his eyes, yes, but if it was fear of what he would know or fear of what they would do, the Master could not discern. He felt quite the same. “You must have really missed me,” he said to keep his thoughts from going further.

“You’ve no idea.” When the Doctor held out his hand, he took it.

***

One moment, Gwen and Jack were watching the Doctor sit very still in the corner, the next he was pressed against the glass, fighting like hell to get out. Gwen couldn’t understand everything, he spoke so fast, but from what she could discern, it did not sound good. He begged and he pleaded for Jack to let him out, before it was too late, before he could . . . find something out. He pounded his fists against the door until the fight drained from him. Until he fell to his knees, his palms flat against the glass, his headed bowed down, surrendering to something that Gwen had the feeling was not their captivity of him.

“Jack,” Gwen started, slightly afraid. He didn’t answer her. 

“I’m so alone, Jack. I was too alone. I had to, you see. I had to. If it were anyone else . . . perhaps not. Perhaps I would’ve continued on my way. Alone.” The Doctor’s eyes closed. “No longer.”

***

Sometimes they were themselves, other times they were Them. Sometimes they were each other, and other times they shared being Them. It was as if someone was turning the pages in a book, leafing through chapter to chapter, thinking one thought and feeling another.

They loved each other like only the ancient can, with a slow fervor that was edged in decay, where the decay had slowly crept into their hearts and they were trying to erase it, just for a moment, and remember themselves as whole, as one. Their pages turned, youth and maturity. The lines blurred. They became. 

Their hands molded each other, creating anew. Their mouths tasted like age: they turned dust into wine. The bad for the good. The hate for the love. The pain for the pleasure. 

An hour . . .

An hour . . . 

In a moment.

***

The Doctor’s eyes opened a second later. They appeared sharper, more intelligent than they had before. Whatever it was that he’d been fighting against, the Doctor had beaten it. Gwen urged Jack to open the door. Jack did not.

“I can fix it all.” The Doctor whispered raising a hand once more to the glass. “I can fix them all.” 

Jack’s hand hovered above the keypad. Gwen hovered near him.   
“It’s all right, Captain. I promise you. It’s all right.”

There was such a desperation in his eyes. He didn’t deserve to be locked up. He just didn’t. Gwen brushed aside Jack’s hand, and quickly opened the cell. Jack made a shout of protest, but silenced himself as soon as the Doctor stepped out. Jack went rigid. 

The Doctor nodded. “Thank you, Miss Cooper.” 

He got as far as the door when Jack called him back. Dutifully, patiently, the Doctor turned back. “Something wrong, Captain?”

“Take off the ring.” 

The Doctor smiled. “No. I think I’ll keep it for a while. You understand. All those keepsakes of yours.”

“Please, Doctor. I have to know.”

“No. You have to trust me. Now I said I could fix it, and I will fix it. You will let me do so because you do not have the power nor the will to — Stop it.” The Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned. He walked back over to them. Gwen noticed Jack’s hand reach for his gun. 

“No need, Jack.” The Doctor was whispering. “You know how my plans go. Promise me something?” 

Jack nodded carefully. 

The Doctor pressed a small leather journal into Jack’s hands. “Keep this from me.” 

Gwen stole a glance at the cover, but could only make out a circular pattern of lines and arcs. “What is it?”

The Doctor smiled at her. “Something I made myself remember, that I have to forget again. It’s the only way. You understand.” 

He walked backwards, still smiling, but Gwen felt the warmth behind it fading. She held on to Jack’s arm and once more, he wrapped his arm around her. “It’s okay,” he reassured her as the Doctor ascended the stairs. “He’ll be back. When he forgets what’s making him hold on.”

“Can he do that?”

“He did it once, I think. If I’m understanding this right. He can do it again.” 

“I hope so.” 

“Me, too.” Gwen kept her eyes on the journal as she listened to the sound of the Doctor leaving.


End file.
